


Eyes on Fire

by konstay0629



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Demon Minho, Demon!LeeKnow, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Han Jisung | Han is Whipped, Human Jisung, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, M/M, Time Skips... kinda?, alternating pov, human!jisung, minho is the softest demon ever, they're all whipped lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27176041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konstay0629/pseuds/konstay0629
Summary: Minho is a demon that feeds off words, and Jisung has a way with words.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 40
Kudos: 425
Collections: MINSUNG SEASON: Colourful Autumn 2020





	Eyes on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ This is an entry for [Minsung Season](https://twitter.com/minsungseason)   
>  ♡ Color inspiration is yellow, because Minho's eyes are gold here heh (not red or orange, despite what the title implies)    
>  ♡ The concept of demon feeding off words is inspired by the BL manga, "Kimi to Oishii ai no Kotoba."    
>  ♡ I finished this the last minute, idk if it's any good lol! sorry in advance for all the grammatical errors, i'll edit them in the future. enjoy reading! ^^    
> 

“Are you sure you really wanna live here?” Seungmin asks Jisung for probably the tenth time just within the past hour.

They were unloading the last of Jisung’s things from the moving truck and carrying them to his new apartment.

“Look man, I’m grateful for your help here, but if you ask me that again I swear to god I'll deck you.”

Jisung doesn’t really understand what Seungmin’s problem is. His 8th floor apartment is sparkling neat, with an amazing view of the Han river, and best of all, a cheap rent. In fact, it’s surprisingly half the price of all the apartments Jisung checked nearby.

“That’s exactly the problem!” Seungmin exclaims after Jisung tells him all these points while they’re inside the elevator. “Don’t you think it’s weird that they’re renting out a unit as good as that at such a low price?”

Jisung honestly thought it was weird as well, but he didn't dare question it. “I’m a broke fresh grad, Seungmin. I can’t afford to be picky right now.”

“What if it has a plumbing issue? Or what if someone died here?” Seungmin eyes the room suspiciously as they reach the front door.

“Everything’s working fine, I checked,” he reassures his friend. “And I don’t really care if somebody died here, as long as the body isn’t here anymore.”

“That’s horrible.” Seungmin gives him a disgusted look. “Suit yourself. Don’t come crying to me when something happens to you.”

Jisung rolls his eyes at that. His friend can be an overthinker sometimes. 

He scans the room with a satisfied smile. He really hit the jackpot with this one. The wall facing the river has floor to ceiling windows, giving him an unhindered view of the sunset outside. The bright colors of the sky are spilling into the room, painting its white walls warm with every shade of pink and orange.

As a songwriter, this is exactly the type of ambiance that he needs. He’s got a good feeling that this place will finally help him create the bomb-ass songs that will jumpstart his career.

“Help me put away all my stuff and I’ll treat you to pizza?” Jisung offers to his friend.

“No, thank you.” Seungmin answers without missing a beat. “Helping you carry all these is as far as my kindness goes.”

“But piz-”

“I don’t need your pizza. I’m going. Bye!” Seungmin says in one breath, booking it out of the room as quickly as possible before Jisung could even respond. He can feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, as if someone is watching him walk away. 

  
  


Inside the apartment, Jisung is left speechless, watching the spot where his friend was standing just a few seconds ago and trying to make sense of his weird behavior.

A strong gust of wind from one of the opened windows slams the door shut, pulling Jisung out of his thoughts.

_“_ Great,” he mutters to himself. “First day here and I’m already making so much noise to annoy my neighbors.”

He scrambles to close the windows before the wind slams shut the opened kitchen cabinets with glass panels. The last thing he wants is to get his security deposit forfeited.

Beneath the window is the box of his songwriting equipment. The sight of it makes his stomach flutter with equal parts excitement and nervousness. Studying was tough and he’s sure that competing in the real world will be even tougher, but he couldn’t wait to show everyone just what he’s capable of doing.

With a small smile on his face, he picks up one of his lyric books, sits cross-legged by the window, and starts scribbling the words flowing through his mind.

_“It’s too fast_

_I’ve waited for this moment, what about you?_

_Are you a little scared? Or are you excited?”_

Behind Jisung, a shadow stands still and quiet, curiously peering over his shoulder and listening closely to the lyrics that he was mumbling. Its lips were stretched into a playful smirk and its catlike eyes were glowing golden.

  
  


\---

It took Jisung a full week to finally put away all his stuff. It’s not that he owns a lot of things, he’s just a little bit lazy. He’s also been busy writing songs nonstop over the last few days.

He stretches languidly on the couch, which also serves as his bed, his table and his workstation. He turned it around so that it faces the bright view outside. Later in the afternoon, he’ll send samples of his work to different entertainment agencies. He hopes that one of them hires him before he burns through his savings. 

“Sunshine,” he whispers to himself. “Maybe I’ll write about sunshine next.”

“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said I’ll write about sunshi-” Jisung stops mid-sentence as he belatedly realizes that no one should be talking to him right now because he’s supposed to be _alone_ in his apartment. It was the voice of a man, but it didn’t belong to any of his friends.

He curses and places a hand on his heart, trying to calm himself as his heartbeat picks up pace.

Behind him, he hears an amused giggle.

With his eyes widened in fear, he slowly turns around from his spot on the couch and looks for the source of the sound.

And he saw… nothing. There’s no one behind him.

He takes a deep breath to calm his heartbeat once again and reaches for his phone, quickly dialing Seungmin’s number. It rings several times but his friend didn’t pick up and his call went to voicemail.

“S-Seungmin, I think there’s a thief inside my house,” Jisung frantically whispers into the mic.

“I’m not a thief,” a faint voice whispers back alarmingly close. It was just loud enough for Jisung to hear him clearly without being heard through the phone call.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Jisung stammers to himself as he squeezes his eyes shut. He gets up from the couch and blindly heads to the front door.

“Can you stop mumbling? I need to hear your words.”

Jisung freezes on his tracks. The voice seems even closer than before. 

He cracks his eyes open a little and sees a shadow in front of him. His heart picks up its pace, beating impossibly fast in his chest. Panic claws up his throat as he raises his head to see the source of the voice.

But before Jisung could see a face, the shadow moved towards him. A pair of golden eyes were suddenly just a few inches from his own and the air around him dropped several degrees colder.

“Boo!” The shadow whispers to Jisung’s ears, its laughter bringing light gusts of cold breeze that left goosebumps on his skin.

He tries to scream past the lump of panic dodged in his throat. But instead, he collapses and finally loses consciousness.

  
  


\---

Jisung felt like his head was about to explode. 

That was his first thought as he woke up. He groans to himself as he cradles his throbbing head, the sound of his phone ringing having woken him up.

He feels disoriented and he can’t remember how he got there. The last thing he remembers is that he’s lazing away on his couch. He scans the bed and finds his phone on the opposite side just under the pillow. 

He sits up on the bed and reaches for his phone. The screen says that it was Seungmin calling and probably not for the first time because he apparently missed 20 calls while he was sleeping.

“Hello? Seungmin?” he answers, voice thick with sleep. “Did you stop by and carried me from the couch to the bed? You’re so sweet.” Jisung asks jokingly.

_“What the hell are you talking about?”_ Seungmin said. _“I’ve been calling for the past 30 minutes because you said there was a thief in your house.”_

“Oh…” Jisung says as he finally remembers what happened earlier, causing a chill to run down his spine. That must’ve been all a dream… right? Right. There’s no logical explanation for that.

_“‘Oh’? That’s all you have to say?”_ Seungmin’s voice rises with every word, making Jisung’s head hurt more. _“I was so worried that something happened to you and that I was too late!”_

“Calm down. You’re making my headache worse,” Jisung says. “I’m sorry I made you worry, but I’m fine. I think I just had a dream earlier and called you unconsciously.”

He hears Seungmin take a deep breath at the other side of the line, probably calming himself. _“Are you sure you’re okay?”_ Jisung hums in affirmation. 

_“I told you there’s something wrong with that place.”_

He wanted to agree with his friend, to tell him all about the weird things that happened earlier, but what if it was all really just a product of his imagination? What if he was just severely exhausted that he started to hallucinate things?

Jisung chose to reassure Seungmin that he’s fine instead, telling him that he just has a bad headache. He didn’t want to worry his friend any longer.

_“Go take some meds and make sure you eat dinner.”_

“I will. Love you, too.” Jisung teases.

_“Whatever.”_ His friend snaps before hanging up.

  
  
  


“Can you repeat what you just said?”

Jisung drops the phone from his grip as he’s once again startled by the sound. It was the voice from earlier. So it wasn’t a dream or a hallucination, after all. He whips his head around, trying to find where it came from.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” Jisung’s voice trembles. He feels silly talking to thin air but he knows he isn’t just imagining things. Or at least, he hopes he isn’t.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” the voice drawls. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Well, you just did earlier.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” To their credit, the voice actually sounded apologetic.

“Show yourself.” Jisung demands.

A few seconds passed and nothing happened. “Maybe I _am_ going crazy. This is stupid. What the hell, I’m so stupid,” Jisung puts his head in his hands.

“Don’t talk like that,” the voice came out of nowhere again, making Jisung jump.

“Look, if you’re going to keep talking to me, you need to show yourself, ok?” he says against his better judgement. At the back of his mind, his logical self is telling him that this is how people die in horror movies.

Jisung hears a muffled sigh to his left so he whips his head to that direction, just in time to see the air rippling as if there’s a heat wave in that particular spot. 

The ripples spread out, vibrating faster and faster until they turned black and formed the shape of a human. The next thing Jisung knew, there was a man standing by the foot of his bed and he was staring straight into his eyes.

A beat of silence passes, and then another. The silence simply stretches out and becomes deafening, as if either of them is afraid to speak.

Jisung could only look in stunned silence as he silently studies the... entity? Person? Whatever he’s called. 

The man was slightly taller than him, with hair the color of chocolate, eyes angled like a cat, and lips that look like they’re always tilted in a mischievous smirk, even now when he looks serious. 

His irises are a stark golden color with specks of blue so bright that Jisung could see them clearly even at a distance. He had crystals underneath his eyes, the same colors as his irises.

“What are you exactly?” Jisung asks.

The man raises a brow at his straightforward question. “I’m a demon.”

Jisung gives him a disbelieving look. “Yeah, right.”

“I just appeared out of thin air but you don’t want to believe I’m a demon?”

“Just because you appear out of thin air doesn’t mean you’re a demon,” Jisung reasons. “You could be a con artist plotting to rob me. I’ve watched enough movies to know that’s possible!”

“What can I even rob from you? I know you’re broke!” The man says incredulously.

“Hey! I have money, okay?” Jisung sputters, cheeks heating from embarrassment.

If Seungmin was here, he would’ve remarked how the entire conversation seems a bit too casual for someone who’s supposedly speaking with either a demon or a conman. But alas, this is Jisung, and he tends to gloss over important facts like that.

The man scoffs at him. “Well, I _am_ a demon, whether you believe it or not.”

Jisung studies him closely. He’s wearing regular people clothes - plain black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. Not exactly the outfit Jisung would’ve imagined a demon to wear. “You really look more like a conman to me. I don’t even know why I’m still talking to you.”

He reaches for his phone, intending to call anyone for help - maybe the police? But before he could get his hands on it, it levitates and flies to the other side of the room, hitting the wall with a loud thump. The man chuckles after seeing it hit the ground, mumbling a half-hearted apology.

Jisung can only gawk at him in fear, finally realizing how potentially dangerous the situation is even though it seems ridiculous. Upon seeing his expression, the man frowns and takes a step closer to him, but he flinches away.

“I was just playing around, I won’t hurt you,” the man sighs. “I may be a demon, but I’m not evil. Just hear me out first, ok?”

Jisung doesn’t respond. The man took that as a cue to continue speaking. “I’m a demon that feeds off words.”

Despite trying not to be interested, Jisung's curiosity was dangerously piqued. 

A demon that feeds off words? That’s the first time he’s heard of that.

“There are demons that feed on dreams, emotions, greed, lust, and then there’s me. I feed on words. Pretty harmless, right?” The demon gives him a reassuring smile and a wink, which would have been pretty funny and ironic if only Jisung weren’t scared shitless.

He’s not sure if he agrees about the harmless part, so he chose to ignore the question. “Why are you _here,_ though? What do you want from me?” he asks instead.

“First of all, I was here first. You’re the one who moved into my territory,” the demon sits at the edge of the bed and leans back on his hands. “And isn’t it obvious that I’m here to feed on your words. That’s why I told you to stop mumbling, I couldn’t hear them.”

“What? Why me?” Jisung exclaims, terrified at the thought that somebody is feeding off him.

The demon shoots him a confused look. “Because you’re here. You’re the available host.”

“That makes no sense-”

“It makes total sense.”

“I will never give you consent to do that!”

The demon shot Jisung a confused look again. “Do you need to? I’ve been feeding off your words this past week without any problems.”

“What?!” Jisung exclaims. “Then stop it! You’re being a parasite!”

A look of hurt flashes across the man’s face before it’s replaced with stubborn scowl. “I am not a parasite. What we have here is technically commensalism because I’m not harming you.”

“Oh come on! I don’t care!” Jisung says, throwing his hands up in the air out of frustration. “Just stop it and get out of here.”

The man simply laughs. “Like I said, this is my territory. If you want to be rid of me, then _you_ should get out of here.”

Jisung gasps as the puzzle pieces finally click in his head. This is the reason why the rent was so cheap! This is why the landlord told him that his last tenants curiously don’t last for more than a few months. Were they killed?

“Are you going to kill me?” He slowly inches toward the edge of the bed, ready to make a run for it. Another part of his brain is doing calculations - if he gives up this apartment now, then he’ll definitely be homeless. But maybe if he begs hard enough, he can convince Seungmin to take him in until he finds a job.

Jisung was about to jump off the bed when he noticed the blue specks on the man’s eye disappear, only to be replaced by black. It shocked him so much that he couldn’t help but stare at the transition in colors.

“W-what’s wrong with your eyes?”

The demon looked taken aback for a moment before he looked away, closing his lids to hide his irises. Jisung thought that this could be his chance to get away from him, but he was rooted to the spot, oddly fixated by what he just witnessed, like a child is to shiny objects.

“How many times do I have to say I won’t harm you before you believe me?” the man asks in an exasperated tone, his eyes still closed. “I won’t kill you. I- I need you so I can survive, so I won’t kill you.”

That doesn’t sound reassuring, if Jisung’s being completely honest. It sounds like he’s only alive now because this demon needs to feed off him. He voices out exactly that to the man, who just huffs out in response.

“I will not hurt you. I swear, on my blood, I will not harm you. Okay? Can you shut up about that already?”

A minute or two of silence passes as Jisung contemplates what he’ll do next. With the man’s eyes closed like that and his face scrunched up in an annoyed expression, he really does look harmless.

“Say that while looking at me. I need to see your eyes to know if you’re telling the truth.”

Somewhere in the forgotten logical part of Jisung’s brain, alarms were blaring, warning him that he’s being ridiculous. Just the fact that there’s a real demon here in front of him is already unbelievable. He can’t believe he’s actually considering believing this entity just because he was fascinated. What is wrong with him? Is he really that fickle?

“Can you… like, I don’t know, convince people to believe your words or something? Since you have power and all that,” Jisung asks to check if the thoughts in his head are really his, although he didn’t feel he was being manipulated.

At this, the demon finally opens his eyes and looks at him with a bewildered expression. “No. I don’t have the power to do that.”

Jisung looks closely into the man’s eyes again. The golden color is subdued yet it’s still so bright that it’s almost glowing. The colors of the crystals underneath the man’s eyes are also the same.

“Tell me then,” Jisung finally says. “Tell me all I need to know about you.”

  
  


\---

“So what you’re saying is, you just need to listen to my words to survive?”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been telling you in the past hour, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Don’t get sassy with me.”

Jisung learned a lot, more than what he bargained for, about the demon sitting opposite him in the dining table right now. All that information was overwhelming for his brain.

Apparently, before Jisung moved into this apartment, it had been empty for almost a year. The past tenants were a married couple who fought all the time. The demon got so tired of them, so he terrorized them until they moved out, but not without telling the neighbors that the unit was haunted.

Jisung didn’t talk to those neighbors, so he never knew.

Before the married couple was a man who did nothing but harass women online, so the demon also scared the living daylights out of him and drove him out of the place.

With the apartment empty for so long, he eventually starved and used up all his energy. He was on the brink of death when Jisung came and moved in. He didn’t plan to reveal his presence, but Jisung kept mumbling and it was becoming increasingly harder for the demon to hear his words, so he resorted to that solution. 

“You’re the first human to move in here who actually has a brain, so I need you. You’ve been feeding me so well.”

“That sounds so weird,” Jisung deadpans. “What’s in it for me then?”

“What do you mean?” The demon quirks a brow at him.

“What do I get if I let you feed off my _wise_ words?”

The man rolls his eyes at his narcissism. “Well, I won’t terrorize you and drive you out of this apartment, which you wouldn’t be able to afford if it weren’t for me in the first place. Is that a good enough compensation?”

“You are annoying,” Jisung spats, glaring at him. The man shrugs nonchalantly.

“I know you wouldn’t be able to afford another apartment anytime soon, too.”

“Okay. I get it. You can shut up now.” The man laughs loudly at him, even hitting the table out of glee. “I’m glad you find my financial instability so very entertaining,” Jisung adds in a soulless voice.

He waits for the man’s laughter to subside before asking, “Why are you stuck here anyway?”

“I chose this place because I thought it would always have occupants, considering how great the location is, but I was wrong. I don’t see any point in moving out if the same things will just happen anyway,” he answers with a shrug. “And besides, I like it here. I’ve gotten attached to this place.”

“Then why don’t you just go out and feed off people’s words on the streets or something?”

“I tried, but it’s hard. There are more evil words than good ones. They almost overtook me and turned me into something I don’t want to be, so I don’t want to try anymore.”

“You know, for a demon, you’re a little too wholesome.”

“I told you I’m harmless,” he replies coyly, winking at Jisung.

The latter was about to retort when his attention was caught by the demon’s eyes again. His irises and the crystals on his lower lids are now gold with specks of amber. No traces of the blue or black he saw earlier. Intrigued, he asks the man why the colors kept changing and what they mean.

“Oh, uhm,” the demon averts his eyes.”The color reflects your words. It’s mostly gold now because your words are… good. You’re a pretty decent songwriter.”

Jisung has a feeling that that’s as far as the man’s compliments go. “So it’s like a mood ring!” he says excitedly, receiving a glare in response. “What does it mean if it’s blue and black?”

“They’re blue when the words are sad and black when they’re violent.”

So that’s why they turned black when Jisung mentioned killing earlier, he realizes. “Do you have a name? I’m getting tired of calling you a demon in my head.”

The man chuckles. “You don’t have to know my name, you don’t need to refer to me anyway.”

“What? So you just plan to feed off my words without even acknowledging me?”

“That was my original plan, yes.” The man shoots him an amused look. “Why? Do you want to be friends with me or something?”

It’s not really that. But the thought of being used the whole time he’s living here without even a hi or hello from time to time definitely rubs Jisung the wrong way. He can’t just coexist with this demon, knowing that it’s feeding off his words, without acknowledging its presence.

He crosses his arms and glares at the other man. “You act like you’re so tough, but you need me just as much as I need a roof over my head, so why can’t you just be cooperative to make this relationship beneficial for the both of us?”

The man studies him closely, eyes narrowed warrily. And for a moment, Jisung thought that he really wouldn’t budge.

“Fine. You can call me Minho,” the man finally says, and upon hearing that, Jisung couldn’t keep the disappointment from showing on his face. “What- why do you look like that?” Minho demands.

“Other demons have cool names like Baphoment and Beezlebub. Why are you plain old Minho?”

Minho looks offended and at the same time amused, but before he could respond, Jisung’s phone rings loudly on the countertop.

The latter scrambles to pick it up upon seeing on the screen that it’s a call from one of the entertainment agencies that he wanted to work for. He completely forgot about his plan to send the songs to different companies in hopes of finding a job. Apparently, the hiring manager in this one has been waiting for an email from him.

With a mumbled string of apologies, Jisung hangs up and heads to the couch in front of the big window to get to work. In a matter of minutes, Jisung becomes immersed in his own world, totally forgetting the presence of another person in the room.

Minho shakes his head in amusement and moves to the chair near Jisung. If he insists on making it hard for him to feed, then Minho guesses he’ll just have to stick close to him like this. 

He quietly stares at the Jisung, noting the beauty mark on his supple cheeks and the way his lips pucker and brows furrow when he’s thinking. _Cute._

Minho could hear his whispers faintly from where he’s seated. The song was about growing up. He didn’t have memories of growing up, but the lyrics still made him feel nostalgic. He closes his eyes and lets himself relax as the soft breeze from the opened windows carries another bittersweet verse to his ears and paints a picture behind his lids. Jisung really is good with his words.

\---

Minho never really meant to introduce himself to Jisung.

When the man first came in to view the apartment, Minho felt so relieved. He was able to recharge even if he only heard him speak sparingly.

The thought that someone decent and nice would move into the place made him hopeful.

But then, he slowly realized that Jisung didn’t have anyone he regularly talks to, at least not out loud. 

Unlike the previous tenants of the house, which were either families or solo occupants who always had their friends over, Jisung was quite an introvert.

If he does talk to his friends, it’s through text. And that made it extremely difficult for Minho to hear anything from him. The only time Jisung spoke was when he was writing lyrics, but then those were mumbled words that often sounded incoherent unless Minho leans in to really make out what he’s saying.

Whatever sparse words he heard from Jisung was good though. He’s never felt so nourished in his entire existence. But it also made him greedy - he wants to hear more, he wants to hear everything Jisung has to say. That greed made him careless, made him decide to risk it all and announce his presence.

So that he did two weeks ago, and now he’s regretting it because things are definitely not going according to his plans.

“Did you know that the opposite of formaldehyde is casualdejekyll?” Jisung snickers, absolutely proud of himself.

Minho just gives him a blank stare because that’s probably the twentieth awful joke he’s heard this week. He did not sign up for this.

“Can you shut up and just clean this up instead?” he glares at him, pointing to the growing pile of dishes on the sink. It’s ironic - a demon who feeds off words telling his human to shut up.

Jisung grimaced at the sight. “I won’t have to use them anytime soon, they can wait.”

“They have been waiting there for three days! How long do you plan to pile them up?”

“Look, I don’t have time! I have an online interview in five minutes.”

“You should’ve washed it an hour ago when you weren’t doing anything.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll wash it after the call!”

Minho ended up washing them because he couldn’t take another minute looking at the mess in his beloved home anymore. 

Much to his dismay, that becomes a routine. Whenever Jisung was too busy or too tired to clean up around the house, Minho does it instead. 

He never would’ve thought that he, a demon with otherworldly powers, would be reduced to this.

\---

“Do you think I’m your babysitter or something?” Minho glares at the Jisung.

Jisung simply ignores him and hums as he takes another bite of the food Minho cooked.

Minho never really meant to cook for Jisung, but what was he supposed to do when he watched the man gobble nothing but instant noodles in the past two weeks?

Seeing him enjoy it makes him feel a little proud, though.

“What’s this dish? It’s so good!”

“Those are human liver.”

Jisung stops chewing and looks at him with a horrified expression, sending Minho into a laughing fit.

“I’m just kidding!” he says in between giggles when he saw that Jisung was about to spit the food out. “Those were just the blood sausage soup you have in the fridge.”

  
  


“That’s a disgusting joke.” Jisung scowls furiously at him before taking another bite.

“How did you learn to cook?” Jisung manages to ask despite his cheeks filled to 95% of their capacity. “And why did you even learn when you don’t eat anyway?”

“I just picked up the skill while watching people,” Minho shrugs.

Jisung nods his head thoughtfully as he processes Minho’s answer while chewing. “How long have you been in this world?”

“You think I’ve been here for thousands of years, don’t you?” He asks, getting a shrug from Jisung in response. “Minor demons like me have the same lifespan as humans. The only difference I have from you is that I have certain abilities.”

“Really? So exactly how old are you? Are you younger than me?”

“I’m two years older than you.”

“How did you even know my age?”

“Your resume is littered all around the house, Jisung.” Minho deadpans, sweeping his hands grandly at the living room to emphasize the clutter. “Can’t you clean up even a bit?” 

The younger just gives him a sheepish laugh before eating again. “Why do demons like you exist? Do you have a mission here on Earth or something?” he asks after a while.

“I don’t really know. I’ve asked myself that many times as well,” Minho answers. And it was true. 

Minho didn’t have memories of when he was a child, but he knows he was a child at some point. His memories only go as far back as his first day in this apartment seven years ago, which is why he’s grown so attached to this place. Every time he’s bored or when he struggles to feed, he can’t help but question why he even exists.

Many demons like him take on the human form and integrate themselves into humanity to meet their needs, but Minho doesn’t want to do that. He doesn’t want to go through all the trouble of doing human things, actively getting close to humans just so he can consume their words or use his abilities.

He’s content with living in the dark and listening to the words that come his way. So showing himself to Jisung is something new to him as well.

“You don’t have to have an ingrained purpose to exist,” Jisung says, staring into the distance as he loses himself in his thoughts. “What matters is that you exist and you’re here now.”

Minho stares at Jisung. He strangely feels warm and content. And if Jisung had met his gaze at that moment, he would’ve seen the warm gold glowing on Minho’s eyes.

\---

“When was the last time you ate?” Jisung hears the words but fails to comprehend them as he flops on the bed unceremoniously out of exhaustion.

He’s been working nonstop, polishing his skills by trying to write as much as he can and sending his works to different companies. It’s been two months and about thirty embarrassing follow-up emails sent to the companies he applied to, but there’s been no word since. He’s slowly losing hope and quickly becoming even more broke.

He groans and snuggles deeper into the bed. “Don’t talk to me, I just wanna rest.” He hears a sigh just before he slipped into unconsciousness.

The next time he wakes up, it’s to the smell of something delicious.

He hears his bedroom door creak, followed by the sound of light footsteps. Jisung cracks his eyes open and sees that it’s Minho, carrying a steaming plate. He shoots him a goofy smile as he sits up and leans on the headboard, making grabby hands at the plate of food.

He never would’ve thought that he’d be this happy to live with a demon.

To be fair, Minho is a pretty helpful demon, and he’s literally pretty too.

In just a short amount of time, Jisung learned that Minho is a lot more responsible around the house than he is, often doing the work that Jisung either forgets or no longer has the will to do.

“It’s because you’re a fucking slob,” Minho once snapped at him when he asked why he’s vacuuming the couch.

Jisung tried to clean up better after that, he really did. But his organized clutter just doesn’t meet Minho’s standards.

What surprised Jisung the most is that Minho takes care of not just the house but him too.

“Didn’t I tell you I need you so I can feed? You can’t just die on me,” Minho told Jisung before practically slapping a fever relief pad on his forehead when he got sick in his fifth week at the apartment.

“Can you stop ogling at me and finish your food already?” The demon in question grumbles, bringing Jisung back to the present.

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants.” Jisung feels his cheeks and ears heat up from being caught staring. He focuses on the plate in his hands, it’s just a simple fried pork cutlet with coleslaw on the side.

He takes a bite, savoring the burst of flavor in his mouth, before his stomach churned uncomfortably at the realization that this was the last food in his fridge and the last decent meal he’ll probably have in weeks. He really needs to find a job fast.

“Don’t worry, I still managed to save some food for another meal,” Minho assures him, reading his mind perfectly. That’s something he’s become better at doing.

Jisung squints at him. “Are you sure you don’t read minds?”

“I don’t. Your ugly face is just too easy to read.”

Jisung scowls at him but decides to let the insult slide since he’s pretty sure Minho doesn’t find him ugly, if the countless times he poked his cheeks and called him cute were any indication. 

He sighs dejectedly and moves his food around the plate. “I don’t understand why no one has contacted me yet. Do I suck that much? Damn.”

“You’re talented, Jisung, so don’t doubt yourself. Just keep doing your best and the right opportunity will come to you.”

Jisung turns to Minho with a bewildered expression, shocked at his sudden compliment. “Wow. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Minho scoffs. “Didn’t I already tell you that you’re a good songwriter?”

“You said I’m a _decent_ songwriter.”

“That’s the same thing!”

“No, it’s not!” Jisung argues and sticks his tongue out at Minho, who made a move to grab it. “What the heck! Why would you grab my tongue?!”

The demon just burst into laughter. Jisung tries to keep a straight face, but Minho’s laugh is contagious so he soon caves in, momentarily forgetting all his worries.

At least there’s one person who believes in him. Well, he’s technically a demon. But that’s enough to give Jisung strength and make him try harder the next day.

  
  


\---

“Minho!” Jisung shouts loudly from the bedroom. A moment later, Minho shows up at the door, looking sleepy. He grunts at Jisung to ask what he wanted.

“Look at this!” Jisung says excitedly, pointing at his laptop. Minho sits next to him on the bed and peers at the screen.

“Those are all just words to me, what do they mean?” 

“A company finally emailed me!” Jisung gushes, his voice still overflowing with happiness and excitement.” They’re asking me to go there for the job offer!”

This seems to stir Minho out of the stupor that his mind was in. He looks excitedly at the screen again and reads what was written. 

Jisung already memorized the email. A company he applied to named AAC Entertainment is asking him to come to their office tomorrow to discuss the job and give him an offer.

“See, I told you!” Minho turns to him with a wide smile, and it makes Jisung’s stomach flutter to see just how happy he is for him. “I told you you’re good and you just have to wait for the right opportunity!”

“Yeah, thank you.” Jisung says earnestly, hugging Minho out of impulse.

To his surprise, Minho didn’t pull away. Instead, he brings his hands to Jisung’s back and pats it soothingly.

“Thank you for believing in me,” he says, giving Minho a gentle squeeze before pulling away. He could feel his cheeks and ears heating up. His mind is about to overthink his actions, but he doesn’t want to go that route yet. Not when he’s in front of Minho and there are more urgent things to think about.

“Can you go with me? To the company, I mean.” He asks sheepishly, avoiding Minho’s eyes. “I know it’s hard for you to go out, but I feel really nervous and I could use the moral support.”

Minho was silent for a beat or two, but it was long enough for Jisung to regret what he just said. “It’s okay, though, if you don’t want to. That’s totally understandable,” he reassures the older.

“What a big baby,” the older chuckles as he ruffles Jisung’s hair. “It’s okay. I can go with you. It’s easier for me now, since I can just focus on your voice.”

Jisung pumps his fist in the air, already feeling a lot less anxious than he was earlier.

\---

Minho stares up at the tall building in front of them, its glass walls glaring in the sun. People were going in and out of its large double doors. There’s chatter all around them, as the streets are busy, but Minho tries to drown out the sound and focus on Jisung’s breathing, which has become a little erratic since they arrived.

He reaches for the younger’s hand after a moment of hesitation and squeezes it. It felt new and a bit weird, like it goes against what he was meant to do, which was to terrorize people instead of reassure them. But the feeling is strangely warm and comforting to him too.

“Hey, you’re going to be alright. C’mon.”

They went inside the building hand in hand, Jisung’s clammy palm lending warmth to Minho’s naturally cold ones. He only let the younger’s hand go when they had to fill up some visitor forms. After that, they were led to another receiving area where about 20 or so people were also waiting.

“Wait here until the interviewer calls you,” the staff tells Jisung.

“Oh, uhm, I was actually done with the interview already and the email that I got says that I’m here for the job offer.”

“Yeah, sorry. We just say that in the email, but you still have to be interviewed in a group then whoever qualifies will be offered the job later.”

Minho thinks that that was very unprofessional but he chooses to keep quiet. He doesn’t want to ruin this for Jisung.

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Jisung simply responds. He was visibly panicking. Minho could see his hands shaking by his sides and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Uhh, yeah. I’m just not prepared to be interviewed and in a group.”

“They should’ve told you this beforehand. How can they be so deceptive,” Minho glowered, annoyance building up inside him.

“It’s okay. I know I can do this.”

“Yeah, you can. You’ll ace that interview for sure!” Minho gives him a two thumbs up. “I can tell, just by looking at the faces of the others, that they have nothing on you,” he adds in a low voice.

Jisung snorts at that. “Shut up before they hear you.” Minho looks at him closely and sees the nervousness in Jisung's eyes despite the small smile playing on his lips.

He discreetly takes the younger’s hand in his again, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. Jisung mouthed a “thank you” before they fell into a comfortable silence, waiting for the staff to call in Jisung’s name.

  
  


It took almost an hour of waiting before it was Jisung’s turn. Minho was instructed to wait in the receiving area, as he wasn’t allowed in the room.

He didn’t mean to snoop, but he wanted to know what was happening, so he went to the closest bathroom and turned himself invisible. Times like this he was thankful for his ability to pass through surfaces. He entered the room by simply passing through its door. At least he had the decency to use the door.

Inside the room sat Jisung and three other applicants in front of three interviewers who were seated behind a long desk. The applicants were introducing themselves and it seems like Jisung was already done. 

Basic questions were asked after the introduction. He already heard Jisung answer those same questions when he talked to other interviewers online weeks ago, so he couldn’t help but smile proudly as the younger breezed through them now.

“So, we’ve already reviewed the songs that you guys submitted,” one of the interviewers says after the questions were done. “I am particularly concerned about the song you submitted, Mr. Han.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, shocked to be singled out.

“Uhm, is there an issue with the song, sir?” he asks. Minho could hear his voice trembling a little.

“Yeah, it seems too dark. Don’t you think you’re too old for writing such angsty songs?”

“Maybe he’s still in his rebellious phase?” Another interviewer quips. The three of them laughs.

Minho balls up his fist, anger rising up his throat. He looks at Jisung and sees that he’s trying his best to smile, while the other applicants were awkwardly laughing along.

“I- I wrote the song based on my own experiences, sir. I thought a lot of people would be able to relate with the struggles,” Jisung tries to explain himself.

“Well, do you have another song on you that isn’t angsty?”

“Yes. I brought one with me,” Jisung riffles through the papers in his folder and pulls out a sheet of paper. “Here you go. The title of that song is Sunshine. I wrote-” 

The interviewer held out his palm to stop whatever Jisung was about to say, and Minho wanted nothing more than to break the bones in his hand. The three interviewers passed the paper around with a thoughtful expression.

“I think this is good,” the third interviewer says.

“Really? I think it’s not,” the first one who made fun of Jisung says. “Don’t you think the subject is too superficial? I mean, I certainly don’t want to hear a song about sunshine!”

The other interviewer nods his head. “I agree. The trend today is about money, getting laid, doing drugs.” He slams the paper on the table and jabs a finger at it. “Those are what you young ones should write about, not this trash!”

Minho feels white, hot rage rise up his throat. He takes a step towards the interviewers, ready to throw them all against the wall and maybe _through_ it if he can, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard Jisung’s voice.

“I understand that those are the trends and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with writing songs like that. I enjoy songs like those too, ” the younger says evenly. There’s no trace of nervousness in his voice now. “I am usually receptive to feedback because I know that being a songwriter entails constructive criticism, but I think you’re going too far. If you think my songs do not fit what you’re looking for, then you only have to say so. You don’t need to insult and humiliate me, sir.”

The interviewer bristles at Jisung’s words. “Wha- why are you making us out to be the bad guys?” the man sputters.

“What a rude kid.” The other interview laughs humorlessly. 

“I- I’m sorry if I sounded rude. I just-”

The interviewer cuts him off. “You don’t even have any achievements to be proud of yet but you’re talking to us like that already?” he asks with a spiteful smile.

Minho sees red at the words.

He feels his power physically flow out of him. Whatever insult the interviewers were about to say suddenly couldn't get past their lips. Minho made sure they wouldn't be able to talk. 

The men clawed at their mouth and throat like they were trying to get something off them. Only strangled grunts came out when they tried to make a sound. Minho watched in amusement as the men’s eyes bulged in their sockets from sheer panic.

He would’ve prolonged their agony if he hadn’t spotted Jisung’s horrified expression.

The windows of the room opened with a loud bang, some hitting the wall and breaking their glasses. A strong wind from outside blasted through the open windows, sending the papers and office supplies flying straight towards the interviewers, some of the items hitting the wall with a loud thud.

The door to the office flies open as the staff from outside investigates the commotion. Upon seeing the mess that the room has become, they escorted the stunned applicants out of the room.

Minho quickly slips past them and runs to the bathroom, taking on a human form in one of the stalls to avoid being caught by Jisung. He returns to the waiting area before the younger arrives.

“Hey! How did it go?” he asks offhandedly when Jisung finally walks up to him after completing some more forms for the company record.

“It’s okay,” the younger answers absentmindedly, lost in his thoughts.

“Oh? Then uhm, do you wanna go ho-”

“Minho, can you be honest with me?” Jisung suddenly cuts him off. 

The question sets Minho on edge, but he nods tentatively.

“Were you there? Inside the interview room?”

Minho’s first instinct was to lie. Lying was a normal thing for demons anyway, it was part of their survival. He wanted to lie, he was ready to lie. 

But instead he answers Jisung honestly, “Yes, I was there. And that was my doing.”

The younger nods in understanding but didn’t say anything else as they head to the door and out of the building.

Minho couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Are you angry at me?” he asks.

“No.” Jisung answers immediately, shaking his head.

“Are you scared of me?”

Jisung takes a longer time to answer as he considers the question. “No, I’m not.” He eventually says.

“Then what’s the problem? Why won’t you talk to me?” Minho stops walking and reaches for Jisung’s wrist, causing the latter to stop in his tracks too.

Jisung sighs. “I’m just… embarrassed that you had to see me like that. You believed in me but I failed big time,” he says, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Minho pulls them to a narrow alley nearby. He turns Jisung to face him and gathers him into his arms. 

  
  


The comforting gesture broke open the dam of emotions that Jisung has been trying to hold in. As embarrassing as it is, he let himself sob his heart out into Minho’s chest. In a matter of minutes, the older’s shirt was soaked with his tears.

He was humiliated in front of so many people. He’s disappointed with himself. 

And most of all, he’s scared that Minho no longer believes in him. Shit, he didn’t know if he still believes in himself.

“I’m sorry for disappointing you,” he eventually says after his sobs have ebbed.

“What are you saying? You didn’t disappoint me!” Minho holds him at arm’s reach. He looks bewildered, as if the notion of being disappointed never crossed his mind. 

“Is that what you were worried about?” Minho takes him into his arms again, rubbing his back soothingly. “I will always believe in you. Not because I benefit from you or whatever, but because I know that you’re really talented. I know that you’ll succeed, Jisung.”

Jisung feels a fresh wave of tears coming again as flashbacks of what happened a few minutes ago burns into his memory, but he holds them back. He heaves a sigh, hoping it would dispel the lingering sadness in his chest. “Let’s go home,” he says, tugging at Minho’s hand.

But Jisung was just human. He had emotions and worries that were hard to control especially when he’s all alone.

That night, while he was lying in bed with his eyes closed and waiting for sleep to come, moments from the interview flashes behind his lids. How the interviewers laughed at his work, the songs he poured all his emotions into. How they called his song angsty and superficial, and insulted him in front of everyone in the room.

He tried to cry silently, but he couldn’t stop the sobs escaping past his lips.

A few moments later, there was a knock on his door. Minho opens the door a little to check on him, then slipped past the doorway and silently walked over to his bed. Jisung felt the other side of the bed dip with the older’s weight, and after a beat or two, he felt Minho’s cold hands brush his hair back from his face.

There’s something about the demon’s gentleness that made him cry even harder. He felt cherished, and he didn’t know why that makes him more emotional.

Minho tucked Jisung into his arms. “It’s okay. You can cry all you want. I’m here if you need me,” he whispered, and then he kissed the crown of Jisung’s head.

\---

Jisung was in a slump.

It has been two weeks since the interview incident and he hasn’t written a single word since.

He also received three invitations for an interview but turned them all down because he’s scared he’d get humiliated again.

Right now, he’s in front of his laptop, staring at the empty screen and despairing how he’d get by another month with what’s left of his money.

He already asked his parents for help last month when he literally didn’t have any money left. And while they’re more than happy to help, he doesn’t want to make that a regular occurrence.

“It’s better to write something shitty than to not write anything at all,” Minho says as he sets down a steaming pot of ramen on the table next to the laptop. “This is all you have left in the kitchen, but I tried to make it a little better with those green things.” He points at what Jisung assumes is scallions.

“You’re not just saying that because you need to feed off my words, aren’t you?”

“Is that what you really think of me?”

“... No. I’m sorry, I just said that without thinking,” Jisung rubs his face with both hands in exasperation.

Minho sits on the armrest beside him and cards his fingers through Jisung’s hair. “It’s okay. I know you’re stressed out. Just be careful with what you say next time.”

Jisung hums in affirmation and leans into his touch.

They stayed like that for a moment before their peace was disrupted by the loud sound of the front door hitting the wall. 

Before they could even move, Seungmin was in the middle of the living room, breathing heavily and looking quite excited.

“Seungmin? How the hell did you get in?”

“You told me your password, remember?” Seungmin wheezes out. “Who’s that?” He points to Minho, who simply raised a brow at him.

“Oh, this is Minho.”

“Oh, okay. Anyway, that’s not important. I have good news for you!” Seungmin waves his phone in the air. “So, I made my friend Wonpil listen to one of the songs you wrote, and he asked me if he could show it to his friend Younghyun, who’s a singer. So I said yeah okay as long as he doesn’t steal it or something. Then Younghyun showed the song to his friend Chan, who’s a composer and also an owner of a start-up entertainment company! Chan said he loved the song and now he’s asking me to introduce you to him!” 

Seungmin said all that in one breath, and Jisung almost clapped in amazement before the words finally sank into his brain.

“What? What do you mean?” he asks incredulously. He can’t believe he’s hearing this right.

“Chan wants to meet you! I think he wants to work with you!”

“Oh my god. Are you sure?” Jisung’s voice faltered. Seungmin shows him Chan’s text.

_“This song is amazing! You have to introduce me to your friend,”_ the text says.

Jisung can’t explain the happiness he felt at reading the words. He turns to Minho, whose golden eyes were practically glowing. “Did you hear that?”

“Of course,” Minho responds, ruffling Jisung’s hair. “I told you, didn’t I? That you’ll find the right opportunity someday?”

Jisung smiles at him. It was the brightest smile he’s ever had in weeks, and Minho smiles just as brightly. He circles his arms around Minho’s waist and gives him a light squeeze.

“Didn’t know you got yourself a boyfriend,” Seungmin sniggered. “And he has fancy lenses and eye crystals too. Nice.”

Jisung just rolled his eyes at his friend but didn’t bother denying his assumption. He didn’t hear Minho denying it anyway.

He glimpsed at the older to see his reaction and saw that his ears have taken on a rosy glow. _Cute._

\---

When Jisung went to meet Chan, he didn’t expect his startup company to be that small. He was hesitant at first. Will it really work? Will he be able to achieve his goals in that place? 

Minho wanted to go with him for the meeting but he declined. He had to reassure the pouty demon multiple times that it wasn’t because he’s scared he’d act up again, but it was because he wanted to do this independently.

Then he met Chan and his co-owner, Changbin, and suffice it to say, all Jisung’s worries went flying out the window. There’s just something about the two that made him feel comfortable and safe. He felt like he belonged in there, like he’s supposed to write his songs there.

He hopes Chan and Changbin felt the same. He guesses they feel the same, else they wouldn’t have offered him the job that quickly.

By the time he reaches home, Jisung was practically vibrating with excitement. He couldn’t wait to tell Minho that he’s finally hired and that he’ll finally be able to pursue his passion.

He opens the apartment door slowly and steps inside the house, his eyes searching for the familiar silhouette of a certain demon. He sees him seated at the dining table. 

Minho spots him and stands up from his seat, looking at Jisung expectantly. 

Jisung simply smiles brightly at him, and that was all Minho needed.

Minho runs up to him and takes him into his arms, spinning him around in a tight hug as laughter falls from Jisung’s lips and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Congratulations. I’m happy for you,” he mumbles into Jisung’s hair, absolutely refusing to let go of him.

“Thank you. Thank you for believing in me and always being there.” Jisung nuzzles into the crook of Minho’s neck, making the older giggle. “I like you,” he blurts out before he could even think about it.

He feels his entire face heat up from his sudden confession, so he buries himself deeper into Minho’s arms.

The older has other plans though. 

He pulls away from Jisung and gently raises his chin. “Can you say that again?”

“What?” Jisung whines. “It’s embarrassing! Don’t make me say it again!”

Minho chuckles at him. “I like you, too.” He confesses. Jisung could only stare at him in stunned silence..

Minho leans in to give him a kiss on the forehead. And then another one on each cheek. 

“You made me feel things I’ve never felt before,” Minho’s eyes travels all over Jisung’s face, as if he was mapping it and committing each feature to memory. “I like you... _a lot_.”

Jisung smiles goofily. He hooks his hand behind Minho’s neck and pushes himself up to kiss him. “I like you,” he says, over and over again, as he peppered kisses on Minho's lips.

  
  


“How would you feed if I’m no longer around the house all the time?” Jisung asks while they were cuddling later that night.

“It’s okay. One of your ‘I-like-you’s’ can apparently give me more energy than a hundred of your other words.”

“That’s so cheesy.”

“I know, right? I’m cringing at myself right now, but it’s the truth.” Minho chuckles.

“... I like you,” Jisung whispers.

“Oh no! What have you done? You’ve given me too much energy!” Minho whines dramatically. “Do you… want to help me use up some of it right now?” he teases, winking at Jisung suggestively.

“W-what?” Jisung stutters, heat slowly building up in his stomach. A hearty laugh is what he gets in response. “Oh, shut up!” He grumbles, hitting the older on his arm.

When he looked up, he could see Minho’s eyes were on him and it's filled with so much emotion that brings him warmth despite the older's naturally cold body. His irises and the crystals underneath them were still glowing gold. But this time it has specks of red. Red for love, desire and affection. A reflection of his words, along with Minho's own emotions.

"What're you staring so intensely at?"

"Your eyes," Jisung responds as he pulls himself up and places a kiss on each of Minho's lids.

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ Minho really said "yes i do the cooking, yes i do the cleaning" lol. Happy birthday linoring <3    
>  ♡ I hope you enjoyed this fluffy mess! i know there are lots of unanswered questions and loose ends. i may edit this in the future. anyway, thank you for reading!    
> 


End file.
